


Blood & Mercy

by Fenris30



Category: Street Fighter
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Introspection, Rescue, Some carnal descriptions but nothing too graphic, Speed Write, descriptions of violence, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 03:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13402764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenris30/pseuds/Fenris30
Summary: Hundreds of victims, killed messily and brutally by his hand. Yet Vega-the vain, bloodthirsty assassin of Shadaloo-could not bring himself to kill someone. Why is that?A bit of an introspective speed-write.Takes place during Street Fighter Alpha 3's aftermath.





	Blood & Mercy

_All of that apparent power, and he was still a disappointment._

Wiping some of the blood from his mask, Vega glanced over at the crumpled form of M. Bison, deep slices scattered over his body, more than several bones broken from various blows from the powerful Spaniard's arms and legs. He could kill bulls with his own might, what chance did a mere man have, even if it was the mighty Bison?

Turning to dash through the collapsing Shadaloo base-after Bison exerted power in his dying throes, the already damaged base had finally given in-his mind raced back to the battle before.

The young woman. One of Bison's dolls.

Brainwashed and kept as nothing but a tool for Bison's use, after he defeated her when she was ordered to attack, he found he could not kill her. She was too beautiful. It was not in him to destroy beauty. Despite being a worthy opponent, which he often would grace with death afterward, he stayed his hand.

He had killed hundreds of people with his own hands-and sure, some of them were attractive. Carving their flesh with his claw until they painted the floor and walls red, snapping their necks between his ankles after a graceful flip or breaking their spines with a strong grapple. For the most unworthy, he would sometimes crush their necks under his heel as he watched them expire, blood spitting from their mouths as they looked up in terror at the chilling mask, housing a pair of cold-yet smiling-blue eyes.

Afterward, he would bask in his own glory, his favorite, expensive red wine in his hand.

But not this time. He couldn't.

What was _different_ here?

As his powerful legs propelled him up walls and effortlessly over rubble-a few coming close to hitting him, but he managed to escape. In the smoke-spotted distance, he saw a figure on the floor; almost in answer to his thoughts.

_It's her._

_Cammy._

Arriving quickly, she was unconscious. He did not know what happened; perhaps a piece of rubble hit her, perhaps Bison's loss of control shocked her mind so badly it caused her to collapse, left to die.

Almost on autopilot, he picked up the young woman, supporting her against his shoulder as he continued his escape. He did not even seem to think much about it.

Vega shook his head, trying to figure out what had come over him. When he heard Bison planned on using her as a tool to throw away, his gut twisted in a way it hadn't in a long time. Human life was something that was but a fleeting thing to him; something that only those deemed worthy should have. Vega was not a sound man when it came to morals by any stretch of the imagination.

He somehow did not like what Bison wanted to do, and he had decided right then and there to stop his madness. He was mad himself, he knew-he would go back to Spain, back to cagefighting, and back to slaughter. But his opponents got in those cages of their own volition; they signed their own death warrants. Those he was hired to kill, it was business. A bit of pleasure on his side, to be sure, but they were often ugly and evil anyway, as the two went hand in hand to the assassin's long-ago cracked mind.

Quickly making it the rest of the way out of the base as more and more burning rubble fell around them, he paused to assess the odd situation he now found himself in.

Cammy was battered from several battles; she was a good fighter, he could tell, but eventually had been overtaken by various things, no doubt also her mental control breaking ending up tiring her out considerably. Not having seen other dolls around, he wondered if she had helped them. He didn't know, but right now he was fairly focused on one thing; what to do.

He could do anything he wanted. He had a beautiful young woman there, and she would have no memory. Who knows, he could take her back to his manor and she wouldn't know the difference. Gods only knew what memories he could plant; she would be at his beck and call.

As Vega walked, he shook his head.

_No._

He didn't know why, but his stomach twisted again at the thought. He would more than be happy to enjoy her beauty in carnal ways, to be sure...but not as a doll or a puppet.

It would have to be...natural.

Vega didn't really know Cammy, to be true. Only in passing. He didn't have to, though; he just knew she was made to be used and thrown aside by Bison on a whim and this made him angry.

_Beauty like this deserves more._

Absently moving his hand up-without the claw, though his nails were claws enough-he brushed back some of her hair and wiped the soot and blood from her face. She was breathing deeply; dreaming, or in utter blackness, he didn't know. If she was dreaming, he hoped it was better than what she faced.

Shaking his head again, these errant thoughts confused him greatly. _Have I grown soft?_

_No, it is simply beauty._

_Beauty should not be wasted._

Cammy stirred a moment, but did not awaken. She seemed calm, however. Whether or not it was from simply being amnesiac, or his touch-he had not actually touched anything gently save for his own face in well over fifteen years-he didn't know.

Trying to settle his brain, he recalled a place. He knew she was trained, and he heard around-through M. Bison and even others-an embassy.

_Delta Red._

He wasn't sure of the details, except they fought Shadaloo, and were an elite sort of unit. It was all really beyond him; he was a man who enjoyed beauty-particularly his own-fighting, blood, red wine, more pictures of himself, and killing. He had little use for much else.

Vega walked with her against his shoulder, trying to stay somewhat hidden; he was spattered in blood from killing more than a few enemies in the base, and it would probably be unseemly for him to be seen like that with an unconscious woman being carried in one arm. Not that he feared authorities; he would cut through them like anyone else, but he did not want to risk the situation.

The Spaniard faintly remembered where the embassy was, the more he thought. As he moved swiftly over buildings-he opted for a higher route and through alleyways, still carefully holding Cammy against him-he spotted the place. With evening now falling, he figured he could do what he had to, or what he felt he had to.

Sliding his mask off a moment, he glanced down at her again as he sat by the wall, waiting until it grew slightly darker, perhaps at a time where someone may be leaving the building.

_Beauty like this deserves a chance to move on._

He decided not to overthink his current situation. This is simply how he felt. There was no rule stating that he couldn't do this. Would she end up his opponent again? Maybe. Maybe then he would have to take her life. Or maybe he wouldn't. He couldn't imagine himself wanting to kill such beauty, but one cannot read the future. For all he knew, they could meet again in a year and end up doing something other than fighting.

He was _quite_ good at that. He _was_ pretty much perfect at anything he did.

Regardless, it was almost time.

Standing, he looked down at her again, noticing a small spot of blood at the corner of her mouth which he didn't before. Taking his thumb, he gently wiped it away, almost making sure she was about as pristine as she could be when he left her.

Trying not to think too hard anymore, he leapt over to the building quickly and deposited her gently outside; before thinking one more time; he undid the red sash at his waist-spattered with blood to be sure, but it was all he had-and covered her with it. He quickly drew their attention with a powerful knock before leaping away. He did not stay around to watch, nor to be seen.

He did not see the door open, nor the people hurriedly take the unconscious young woman into their care, frantically going for medical help, wondering what in the hells was going on.

The last words he thought-before focusing said thoughts back onto his bloody life in the underworld of bloodsports and assassination, where he would bring himself more glory that he could continue to bask in...

_You can live now, beauty._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a speed write on how I pictured the Delta Red scene going. 
> 
> Okay so for those not in the know too much of old Street Fighter: You might know Cammy is a 'doll', made only as another puppet of M. Bison, disposable. In Alpha 3, there was a plotline where, after Bison's defeat, Cammy helped get the now-deactive and in danger dolls out of the base, only to collapse herself, risking death. Vega, in an odd situation of mercy(to her beauty, mostly, of course), went back to save her(after her defeat at his hands, he did not kill her, for one.) 
> 
> Not knowing what to do, he brought her to Delta Red's doorstep and left her, allowing her to start a new life. Throughout the series they have always been a sort of ambivalent, occasionally tangling due to their sides, but nothing really coming of it(and Vega eventually stepped away after V from Shadaloo completely.) 
> 
> Canonically, Vega did indeed bring Cammy to Delta Red in the games. It was one of the very, very few times that he showed a sort of compassion(after he grew up, that was.) I always felt it was a shame that they never revisited this. I'm not saying take away his sadistic, vain and bloodthirsty side since that IS him, but I'm saying touching on this other strange side of him now and then isn't a bad idea there, Capcom. I like it because it shows that underneath the insanity there is clearly more there; keep in mind many a victim of his has been perfectly attractive or beautiful. Yet this was different...
> 
> (As an aside-yes, I do ship Vega/Cammy. I understand he-and well SF in general-has a billion and one ships. Vega/Cammy, Vega/Ken, Vega/Chun, Vega/Juri, Vega/Guy, Vega/Vega...the list goes on. I run a 'any ships that aren't utter squickville are okay with me' and don't partake in silly ship wars, so anyone's welcome to read it and enjoy it or not depending on their tastes of course.) 
> 
> Anyway hope you liked it, it's a very fast write with little editing and the stuff(usual basic grammar and spell checking, at least.)


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